Алла Соколенко после освобождения. Фото: личный архив героини
Latvian citizen Alla Sokalenko, who spent nearly four years in Belarus after being accused of espionage, has described her imprisonment in the KGB detention center and in Homyel Penal Colony No. 4. She was released on December 13, 2025, together with 122 other political prisoners.
In an interview with the human rights center Viasna, she spoke about psychological pressure applied from the first days of her detention, including the use of a so-called “soft room” — a windowless basement with padded walls where prisoners were placed for the slightest infractions.
Alla said she had come to Belarus for a few days to undergo cosmetic surgery. Together with a friend, she planned to leave several days later, when KGB officers approached the women and told them they were being detained. At first, they thought it was a prank: the next day was Alla’s friend’s birthday, and the women assumed it was an ill-conceived joke by her husband.
“But they put us into different cars, took us to some building with iron gates and asked whether I knew what counterintelligence was,” Alla recalls. “During the interrogation it became clear that I had been taken hostage for an exchange for a Belarusian who was in Latvia. They told me directly: ‘Pass the message to your people that Belarusians need their man.’ They wanted my relatives to contact the Latvian security services to arrange an exchange. My friend, a Russian citizen, was released on the third day, but I stayed because I was a Latvian citizen.”
According to the investigators, Alla had come to Belarus to spy and recruit Belarusian military personnel. She says, however, that she communicated only with pharmacy and shop employees. Investigators tried to find evidence in her social media accounts, and around 20 interrogations were conducted solely based on her correspondence.
The investigation lasted exactly 18 months — the maximum period allowed by law. Alla was given an ultimatum: if she admitted guilt, thereby confirming participation in espionage under the cover of a medical operation, she would receive three years in prison; if not, seven years. She refused to confess.
“They even had a poster hanging on the wall in the office: ‘If you are still at liberty, it is not your merit but our failure,’” she said.
Alla described the use of the “soft room” — a space without windows and with padded walls, where detainees were sent for the slightest “violations.” Cells were equipped with buckets instead of toilets, and a duty officer constantly monitored prisoners through peepholes in the doors.
“The staff behave rudely, twenty-year-old boys addressed me with ‘Hey, you, come here.’ For any ‘violation’ — a wrong look, stepping over the line too late when lining up every time someone entered the cell — they could send you down to the ‘soft room’ in the basement.
It is a room without windows, with padded walls and floors covered with carpet, a smell of dampness and semi-darkness. After three or four days there, an ordinary cell seems like paradise. They sent me there about five times for ‘incorrect’ looks or for talking during inspections. In addition, the cells there are arranged in a circle, along which a guard constantly walks and looks into each cell. That means there is always someone’s eye sticking out of the peephole into your cell,” she recalled.
At first, she was unable to send letters to Europe because there were no suitable envelopes, and a meeting with a consul only took place after she used a pretext, saying she needed to arrange a power of attorney to pay for her apartment and lawyer. Communication with her younger son was allowed only through parcels, and visits took place only after she was transferred to the colony.
The trial was closed, and even the Latvian consul was not allowed to attend. After the verdict — seven years in prison — Alla was sent to the women’s penal colony No. 4 in Homyel. She said that political prisoners there were referred to as the “tenth category.” They were subjected to harsher conditions: people slept on upper bunks, performed physical tasks under strict time limits, and faced constant harassment from the administration. Alla developed her own survival rules — avoid conflicts, limit contacts, and keep a low profile.
“When political prisoners wanted to watch the news, other inmates shouted: ‘Oh, the tenth category has seized the remote! Since you failed to seize power, at least you seized the remote.’ Ordinary prisoners were convinced that I had come from Latvia to overthrow the authorities. I tried to explain, said I was imprisoned for nothing, and they replied: ‘Of course, of course, for nothing. All of you in the tenth category are in for nothing. You just all wanted to overthrow the authorities,’” Alla said.
She noted that even harsher conditions are created for those who do not admit guilt. After six months in the colony, Alla wrote a statement admitting guilt because she no longer wanted to endure the pressure.
Alla did not work in the colony because under Belarusian law she had already reached retirement age at the time. At first this was difficult for her, because time passes faster when working, but later she changed her view.
“I saw how the girls walk to the industrial zone in columns for 25 minutes, like zombies,” she recalled. “With their heads down, everyone trudges in formation to the factory in any weather. Then they undergo inspections by guards — without them they are not allowed onto the factory grounds.
Everything happens very slowly. If it is very hot, someone could even faint in formation. So I was lucky that I did not work and only had duty shifts in the unit according to a schedule. You cannot adapt to the colony. You can only say at the end of the day: ‘Thank God, another day has passed,’ and wait for news, hoping you might make it onto that lucky release list.”
Her release came suddenly: she had not written any petitions for clemency and received no warnings. At night, Alla was woken up and ordered to pack her belongings. During the ride in a masked minibus, she did not know where she was being taken and feared for her life.
The vehicle then turned off the highway onto a deserted dirt road and arrived at a place where several other people were gathered.
“There I saw some political prisoners,” Alla recalled. “It was the human rights defender Ales Bialiatski, a Japanese man — a lecturer accused of espionage for photographing villages during ethnographic expeditions, a Polish citizen…”
It later emerged that her release was part of an exchange of political prisoners, although the Latvian side refused to hand over the person Belarus wanted in exchange for Alla.
After returning to Latvia, the woman faced financial difficulties: during her imprisonment, debts accumulated on her apartment because her children could not keep up with payments, and the lack of official recognition of political repression complicated dealings with social services. To repay the debts, she is asking for help.
“I am very worried about the girls who remained there,” Alla said. “The ‘tenth category’ consists of intelligent, educated people, the pride of the colony. They are imprisoned for comments, for transferring 10 rubles to aid funds, for showing empathy. It is a terrible absurdity that is hard to believe until you go through it yourself.”